


A Night At The Fair

by bornonthewrongside



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Carnival, F/M, Fluff, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2205534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornonthewrongside/pseuds/bornonthewrongside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor and Sansa are at the local fair, and Sansa enjoys wasting Sandor's money and time, and he wants to do nothing but go home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night At The Fair

Children were racing around with their faces painted screaming at each other as the sun began to set and the lights of all the rides began to illuminate the fair grounds. Lovesick teenagers were attached at the hip, and parents were warily trying to get their kids to listen, slowly starting to go home. Venders were trying to sell their products for triple their value, and the rides were almost six dollars a piece.

Sandor hated every part of it. Every part except for the fact that Sansa was having the time of her life. With her hand in his Sandor felt he could do anything, even sit for twenty five minutes as an old man drew them, even if it was waiting for Sansa to get some flowers painted on her cheeks. He even bared through the tortuous ferris wheel. He wouldn’t tell her, but he kind of enjoyed getting stuck at the top with her, only because she was so free with her kisses. _Her kisses are as sweet as lemon cakes._

Now they had been at this damned fair for four hours, and she wasn’t near done. There was always more rides to ride, more bands to listen to, more animals to see, more things to buy, and more games to play. She had spent most of his bank account in the past hour _alone_. He loved Sansa, but damn, she was testing him.

He felt her squeeze his hand, and focused back on reality. He looked at her and noticed she tossed her long hair into a messy bun on the top of her head. Why did she still look so gorgeous after hours in the sun and sweat? Her cheeks were beginning to look a little pink, but she put on sunscreen like she prayed to the gods, continuously and almost constantly. He gently squeezed her hand back and smiled at her.

“The sun is finally going down! It’s been so hot all day,” Sansa leaned against Sandor. “I’m pooped.”

Sandor’s eyebrows lifted and hope lit up his eyes, “Are you ready to leave then?”

Sansa laughed, “Of course not, after dark is the best part of the fair, we need to go on the ferris wheel again and maybe the tilt-a-whirl again, and maybe-”

“No, we’ve already been on every ride, _twice_.”

“Well yeah, but we haven’t been on after the sunset.” She looked up at him with the perfected puppy dog look, “Please Sandor.” Her lips pouted just a bit.

“We’ve only been sitting down for fifteen minutes, little bird, let this old man get some rest.” Sandor grumbled.

“You are not old. Now, let’s go play a game. I bet I can win ring toss this time.” Sansa pulled at Sandor’s arm, and when he  stood, she got on her tiptoes and laced her arms around the back of his neck. He hesitantly put his lips to hers; he was never one for public displays of attention. At the top of the ferris wheel was one thing, but he could _feel_ people looking at them, most likely curious as to why this hideous man was kissing the most gorgeous woman in the county. Sansa gave a small whimper of protest when he pulled away.

“You are not going to win any damned game here, little bird. They’re all rigged.” He grumbled with her arms still around his neck.

Sansa drew back, an offended look sprouted on her face. “Excuse me? You don’t think I can win? Is this a bet I hear Clegane?”

Sandor heaved a deep sigh, “No it isn’t Sansa. Gods, you’re sounding like Arya right now.”

“Is that a bad thing? Are you afraid you’ll lose today? Afraid you’re going to be beat by a little bird?” Sansa’s eyes were fired with mischief.

“No, I’m not. Sansa, you’re fucking horrible at the games. You can’t even hit the table at ring toss.” He looked down at her as they sat on the picnic table.

“I just want a big wolf bear. One of the big ones, you know the one that’s bigger than a small car.” She fluttered her eyelashes at Sandor, and he heaved a heavy sigh.

“You are not making me play that damned hammer game, so you can have a giant wolf bear.” She slid her hand on his knee, and pouted. Sandor would not look at her. He would _not_ give in to the little bird. What ever happened to the hound that rip a man apart for even looking at him wrong? _That would be Sansa fucking Stark_ , a voice in his mind said.

He looked at her, and her beautiful Tully blue eyes were shining, and her perfect lips were pouted just so. Sandor heaved a sigh, stood up, and offered her his hand. Sansa giggled like a schoolgirl, and jumped into his arms, capturing his lips into a kiss.  They smiled against each other lips. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and pressed against his pelvic bone, drawing a deep moan from Sandor.

She dropped down, and grabbed his hand, and he bent down and whispered in her ear, “If you’re that thankful for playing a game, how thankful will you be for that giant wolf?”

She smiled up at him, “You wouldn’t believe how thankful I would be, Sandor Clegane.”

Sandor picked up his pace towards the games.

“Come one, come all! Who is the strongest of them all? Is it you my dear? Or is it you sir? By the gods your arms are the size of tree trunks!” The carny was holding a giant hammer, desperately trying to get more people to play his game. He shied away from Sandor when he walked right up to him. He swallowed a lump in his throat, “Would you like to test your strength, my good sir?” Sandor glared at him, and threw him some dollar bills and grabbed the hammer out of his hands, though it was heavier than he was expecting. Sansa scolded him immediately, “Sandor, stop it.” She turned to the carny, ‘He likes intimidating people. Especially when there is absolutely no need to.”

Sandor lined himself up with the stupid column, then turned to the carny, ‘So if I hit this to get to the bell the first time, she gets that damned wolf right?”

“Oh yes, of course! First time only though, must make your first strike count though!” And he immediately backed into the tent, obviously trying to put distance between him and Sandor, especially while he was holding a hammer.

Sansa gave him a peck on the cheek, _for luck_ she said. Like he needed it. In one swift motion he dropped the head of the hammer on the base, and the lights followed a path to the top before the most annoying bell sound sounded throughout the fair. Sansa started clapping her hands and ran up to Sandor. She jumped onto him and was shrieking.

People walking past looked on with curiosity and jealously as the carny handed Sansa the giant wolf. Little boys looked at Sandor with great admiration, and most convinced their mothers to let them play the game, which he just founded was called the _High Striker_. They were getting in line.

Sandor tugged on Sansa’s hand as they started walking away. “Do you get to show how thankful you are now?”

“Well, I was hoping I could maybe ride the ferris wheel again, and they’re going to close the barns soon and -” Sandor put his hand over her mouth.

“Shhhhhh. Sansa, let’s go home, so I can finally get you out of your clothes. Gods be damned woman, you got your damn wolf.”

She rolled her eyes and bit his hand, “Just one more Sandor,” He eyelashes fluttered one more time, “Please.”

He groaned, “One more, that’s it.”

**  
Sansa didn’t let them leave until midnight.**


End file.
